


And have me choke on freedom

by Hoverrain



Series: Throw me in the airlock (And have me choke on freedom) [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Keith (Voltron) Whump, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Season/Series 02 Spoilers, Whump, also don't hate Allura too much, she just let her hatred of Galras cloud her judgment, this is the sequel that I promised 2 years ago lmao, until I finally finished writing the remaining 1.5k, writer's block and life steamrolled me and I just had 2k of words sitting in a doc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 20:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20645465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoverrain/pseuds/Hoverrain
Summary: "Coran, we are fighting Zarkon with a Galra aboard the ship. I should think that this is considered dangerous.”Following the Galra reveal, Allura forces Keith to relive his memories with the rest of the team watching in order to prove his loyalty to Voltron. What she expects to find are signs pointing towards betrayal, but what they discover instead is a shit-load of trauma. The Altean technology she had Coran alter for the purpose of revealing Keith's memories also disagrees with having its function changed after centuries, and it... malfunctions.





	And have me choke on freedom

**Author's Note:**

> There's one intense scene that might qualify for a M rating depending on the reader so just... heads up.

**Chapter 2 **– And have me choke on freedom

**Notes:** Very, very slight spoilers from Season 6 and 7 about how Shiro and Keith met. The one from S6 is so brief you prob won’t even catch it. For those that have watched S7, some events are different from how they happened in canon because that’s how I’m writing the story (which I began a few seasons ago). Also, there’s some profanity in this one.

* * *

“Princess, are you sure about this?”

“_Yes. _ Coran, haven't we gone over this already?”

“Well, _ yes_, princess, but altering _ centuries _ old Altean technology! It's unpredictable, dangerous! We've seen it firsthand that time with Sendak!”

“And I remember that that was with the infection of the Galra crystal, which caused the numerous malfunctions throughout the castle. Coran,_ we are fighting Zarkon with a Galra aboard the ship. _ I should think that this is considered dangerous.”

Allura pauses in her brisk pace down the castle's long halls, the remaining echoes of her footsteps bouncing off the walls. Her voice is hard when she speaks next.

“I will hear no more of this matter.”

\----------

“No.”

Allura blinks. Obviously she hadn't been expecting the outright refusal.

Having heeded obligatory summons from the princess, the entirety of the Voltron team was congregated in the center of the training deck. Unsure about the exact purpose of the summons, all the paladins with the exception of the red one had shown up uniformed in full armor.

“Wait– hold for just a sec,” Hunk raises his eyebrows in confusion. “We're gonna do _ what? _”

“Force your way into my head to find out if I'm a traitor to Voltron,” Keith grunts, “because I _ apparently _ have intentions to murder you all in your sleep.” His violet eyes are narrowed at Allura, disbelief and acrimony manifesting in an expression of hostility. Hunk frowns.

“But you wouldn't do that since you're a paladin of Voltron! Which… you technically aren't anymore since Allura banned you from paladin activity. But! You still wouldn't do that because you're not on the Galras' side! You just have part Galra ancestry. Actually yeah that does make the question of loyalty a bit debatable. ...you know what, I'm just gonna.” Hunk makes a zipping motion over his mouth. He glances to Keith guiltily, but Keith isn't looking at him.

He follows the path of Keith's gaze to Allura and has to actively restrain himself from yelping at the sight that greets him. It's not pretty. The Altean princess looks positively ready to–

“I do not see why you should be so adamant against the idea of proving your loyalty to us unless you have something to hide. If you would prefer, I have no qualms to having you take forcible leave of this ship.”

There's a moment of stunned silence, then–

“Allura!”

“That's going too far!”

“No way!”

“What!?”

Hunk looks at Allura with wide eyes, but the princess ignores all of the rest of them in favor of keeping her fierce stare on Keith.

“What say you, _ red paladin_?”

.

.

.

Keith opens his eyes to a wall of white.

The sudden scenery disorients him, but before he’s given a chance to become accustomed to it, a voice speaks from behind him.

“Keith.”

Keith breathes in before turning around slowly.

“Hey again, Dad.” He stares at his father solemnly. The figure in discussion smiles a bit, eyes sad. Keith doesn’t take his gaze off of his father, but he knows that his surroundings have changed to the inside of his desert shack. The orange-brown lighting is comforting to his eyes, but he knows that any moment now, the peace will be disturbed and the imminent noise of explosions will sound from outside.

“This knife belonged to your mother.” As he did once before, Keith’s father holds out the luxite blade. Despite the suddenness of the topic, it doesn’t feel abrupt at all. The space feels syrupy-thick with implications, yet empty at the same time.

“I know,” Keith murmurs, forcing himself to walk over to the window and brush back the curtains to reveal the sight of advancing Galra troops and Red perched on the cliff. An explosion trembles the ground and shakes the foundation of the shack; the walls rattle like the cage in Keith’s heart, “but I can’t take it now.”

“Don’t you want to know about your mother, Keith?” His father’s voice is forlorn. Keith frowns, resolutely keeping his eyes away from his father and the knife. The want for knowledge is a fire that threatens to burn him up from the inside, but he doesn’t hesitate like he did before. He gazes at Red in the distance. Their bond can barely be felt in this dreamscape, and the gap is still widening slowly but surely.

Keith feels a lump rise to his throat. The dread that had been ever-present since the paladins’ run-in with Ulaz now threatens to choke him: overwhelm him like it did back on the Blade of Marmora’s main base. He knows that he doesn’t want to lose Red. The lion is an innate part of him; he’d been _ destined _ for Red.

“I have to go.” There’s no uncertainty in the statement. If he doesn’t go to Red now, he’ll risk losing her forever. 

He can’t survive that. The lion, and to a smaller extent, the Castle of Lions, has become his home. Defeating Zarkon has become his purpose. The team has become the closest resemblance to a family that Keith will ever have. 

Keith strides toward the door. He doesn’t turn back for another look as he wraps his hand around the doorknob.

“They don’t accept you anymore, Keith.” The air is silent; even the explosions outside have been muted.

“What’s to say that they ever accepted you, or will welcome you again?”

Keith turns the knob and steps out into the desert.

\----------

His body aches.

Keith can barely turn his head to look up at Shiro as the black paladin reaches out a hand to help him up. He grabs on to the offered hand.

“Thanks.” Keith grunts, wincing as pressure is put on his injured shoulder. Shiro lets go of him when Keith is back on his feet, standing by as Keith stumbles briefly, regaining his balance.

“Give them the blade, Keith.” Shiro’s voice is deep, reassuring, and the child inside Keith wants to listen to Shiro―to listen to his older brother, because _ surely, surely if he obeys him, everything will be alright. _ Nevertheless, Keith pushes down that desire and swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Shiro… trust me when I say that I’m fully committed to Voltron. I’m not going to chase answers about my past anymore, but I’ve already been associated with this knife, and what it represents.”

The memory of Allura’s face twisted from disgust and fury rises to the forefront of his mind, and Keith holds back a grimace.

“I would _ die _ for the team, Shiro.” Keith’s voice cracks, “But this knife is a part of me now. I can’t give it away, even if I wanted to be rid of it.”

He forces himself to meet Shiro’s eyes and immediately flinches at the hardened expression that he encounters. Shiro takes a step forward, throwing out an arm in impatience.

“Just GIVE them the knife, Keith! You’re only thinking of yourself, as usual.”

Keith presses his lips together, “I’m sorry, Shiro. I’ve made my choice.”

The next words come as much of a blow as they had the first time.

“Then you’ve chosen to be alone.”

Keith bites his lip, digging his fingers into his shoulder as he stares after his brother’s receding back. Shiro doesn’t stop. Keith resists the urge to run after him. _ I expected this, _ he tries to reason with himself, _ I knew this was coming. _

Tilting his head back, Keith blinks through blurry vision at the cold ceiling of the Marmoran base. Despite its soft glow, the purple lighting seems harsh and unforgiving.

Losing Shiro to the Kerberos mission had been unbearable. He didn’t know if letting him go of his own choice was better or worse.

The blade officially belongs to him now, whether he likes it or not.

\----------

_ “The Kerberos crew, which consisted of mission commander and senior science officer Samuel holt, pilot Takashi Shirogane, and junior science officer Matthew Holt, have not made contact since their last transmission prior to crash landing, and we are forced to conclude that…” _

Noise came before sight, and the news screen gradually comes into focus. Keith finds himself standing in the middle of a bustling hallway, clothed in his old garrison uniform and boots stiffly nailed in place. The TV screen overhead flashes its bold headline: **“Pilot error leads to death of Kerberos crew.”**

The feeling of having been hit by a truck is fresh in the moment, and Keith thinks that his entire being might be paralyzed―that there is no possible way to tear his eyes from that screen or force his feet to carry him away from Takashi’s face immortalized in the picture taken before the departure.

He was in uniform, helmet tucked under his arm. Smiling slightly, an image of professionalism. All Keith can think about is Takashi bursting into Keith’s room right after he’d gotten the news, nearly screaming in his excitement, “I got chosen as part of the crew for the Kerberos excursion!”

He’s shaken out of his torpor by the morning bell. Keith abruptly turns and walks away from the screen.

_ “Running away from our problems again, are we?” _ A voice coos inside his head. Keith shakes his head savagely as the ground blurs beneath his legs. _ Just keep moving _, he tells himself.

_ Keep moving. _

The Kerberos mission failure is the talk of Galaxy Garrison for the rest of the week.

And the week after that.

And the week after _ that_.

After his daze of the first week, Keith’s efforts turn to reining in his temper. Whispers of pilot error and mission failure float through the Garrison, and he barely succeeds in restraining himself from snapping at gossiping cadets.

_ Why is this memory lasting so long? _ He wonders when he’s finally alone in the dark of his room at the end of each day, resisting the urge to tear his hands through his hair. _ What more do you want of me? _

He frenetically repeats “patience yields focus” in his head on a daily basis. The phrase Takashi left him might as well have been a religious mantra at that point.

The final straw breaks the camel’s back during the third week.

“Talk about a fallen legend. Who would’ve thought that THE Takashi Shirogane would fail such an important mission? He even caused the death of the Garrison’s best scientist! My father always did say that the man was overrated.”

“Shut. The fuck. Up.” Keith doesn’t look away from the screen in front of him, but his hands clench on the controls of the simulation spacecraft. He grits his teeth, red pulsing at the edges of his vision.

There’s a beat of silence behind him.

“That’s right, weren’t you pretty close with Shirogane, Keith?” Keith can practically see his fellow cadet’s sly grin, the self-satisfactory sneer. The piece-of-shit navigator, Keith remembered, had seemed to have some sort of vendetta against Keith since the beginning of the school year. The space craft rattles as it hit turbulence. The pilot’s controls shudder under Keith’s grip.

“Draco.” The engineer on the team warns, to no avail.

“I heard he’s the only reason you’re even in the Garrison,” Draco continues. At this point, Keith can’t even hear the engineer trying to mediate past the pounding of blood in his ears.

“How does it feel to have the vouch of a fuck-up, Keith?”

Keith stands from his seat just as the craft crashes. The simulated impact nearly throws him off his feet and into the wall. Keith hangs on to the headrest of the pilot’s seat and propels himself forward past the remaining tremors of the crash landing through sheer rage.

He roughly grabs the collar of his fellow cadet and only has a split second to take in the expression of utter fear on Draco’s face before the simulator’s doors are sliding open and Iverson’s gruff voice is rolling in.

“Kogane! Get out here!”

Draco’s brief expression of relief morphs back into horror when Keith’s hold on his collar doesn’t loosen. Instead, it tightens further to the point that Keith can feel his nails straining the material of the uniform.

“KOGANE!”

With a snarl and flash of yellow eyes, Keith shoves Draco back and stalks past the frozen engineer. Iverson confronts him the moment he steps out of the simulator.

“What was that, Kogane?!” Iverson barks, eyes wide open and spittle flying out of his mouth as he leans over Keith in an attempt at intimidation.

Keith punches Iverson as hard as he can. It’s the only thing he can think to do.

“_That _ was my letter of resignation, _ sir_.”

\----------

The next memory Keith is dumped into blends with the rest. It’s exhausting, and Keith is utterly unprepared when he comes face to face with Takashi again, this time not as a flat image on a TV screen.

***This Shiro will be referred to as Takashi (he looks as he did before he went on the Kerberos mission).**

He stumbles when he sees Takashi, hair dark and lacking dark circles under his eyes. It was how he’d looked most of the time before his fight with Adam, and the reveal of his chronic illness to Keith.

He should be happy to see Takashi again.

He should be, but all he can see is Shiro: pale, with an alien arm, in ragged clothes, strapped to a table, hyperventilating and constantly being tortured by his memories from his time as a Galra prisoner.

He’s tired. He’s beyond exhausted, and as it is now, he doesn’t know how to talk to this Shiro-who-is-not Shiro. Takashi is of another world, of mentorships with brother figures and rare, precious afternoons spent hovercraft racing as the sun sets behind the dunes of the golden desert. The orange glow, the wind through his hair― are of another world.

Shiro is his leader. The one who leads his team with confidence, the scarred veteran of this war outside of Earth. Takashi was his brother, who never gave up on him even when Keith had given up on himself. There are glimpses of Takashi in Shiro, but they’re different people.

Keith waits for Takashi to make the first move in what will inevitably be another draining interaction. Takashi stares back at him somberly.

“Don't do this, Keith.” he finally says.

“Do what?” The words drag themselves out of Keith.

“Relive this memory. You don't want to see it. Believe me.” Takashi looks grim as he stares at Keith, and Keith hesitates. This is the first time someone in one of these flashbacks has seemed aware of the situation. Looking around, he notices that for the first time the setting isn’t somewhere concrete. Rather, it’s a white space empty of everything except himself, Takashi, and what looks to be an unremarkable metal door behind Takashi.

“Who… what are you?” Keith asks warily.

“I protect your mental state,” Takashi says, “so I guess you could call me a guardian.” 

Oh.

“What’s behind that door?” He asks, when further information seems unforthcoming.

Takashi’s face darkens. “A memory that you’re better off forgetting. Trust me, Keith. Don’t go through this door.” He looks past Keith with narrowed eyes, “they shouldn’t see it, either. They have no right.”

Keith glances over his shoulder, but there’s nothing in the space he can see behind him. The hairs at his nape bristle. Frowning in befuddlement, he turns back to Takashi.

“Takashi, tell me what’s behind the door.”

“You have to understand, Keith. This memory is entirely different from the ones that you’ve been seeing so far. It’s too powerful for you. Your emotions will be too powerful for you.”

Keith takes note of the firm set of Takashi’s shoulders and his stance in front of the door. There’s a pause, then Keith breaks into motion, sprinting past his brother figure, his guardian. His hand has just touched the surface of the door―which suddenly has no handle―when he’s back where he was first standing, facing Takashi.

“I’m sorry, Keith.” Takashi says.

“You’re not giving me a choice at all, are you?” Keith peels back his lips to bare his teeth, fists clenching by his sides.

“I’m sorry.” Takashi repeats, dark brown eyes staring soulfully into Keith’s.

“Where did you come from?”

Takashi blinks, taken off guard by the sudden change in topic.

“I exist in you.”

“So you’re a part of me.”

“I was created to protect you, Keith.”

“Did you come from my mind?”

“I suppose, yes, but Keith, I don’t see why that―”

“If you’re a part of me, then obey me and get out of my way.”

Takashi blinks at Keith, eyes wide. “Keith, I―”

“I’m seeing what’s behind that door. If it’s something about my past, I want to know.”

“This memory will _ destroy _ you!”

“Move,” Keith bites out past gritted teeth, ignoring Takashi’s alarmed expression.

“Ke―”

“I said _ LEAVE! _” Keith screams, and Takashi vanishes with his mouth open in a silent plea.

Keith falls to his knees, and the entire room shudders. Forcing himself to his feet, he staggers to the door as the floor quakes under his feet.

\---------

Fire. The smoke and heat are the first things that register in his mind. He can see the light even from behind his closed eyelids. He doesn’t know when he’d closed them. He breathes in the smoke-choked air as he opens his eyes, but what greets him isn’t a raging fire but a closed casket.

He lurches back in shock with legs that are too short, feet that are too small. Raising his trembling hands in front of his face, he sees that they’re lacking his usual fingerless gloves. The uncovered skin doesn’t have any calluses.

A booming voice overhead stops him in his tracks.

“We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Akira Kogane, a man that had dedicated his life to protecting the residents of this town as a firefighter. He lost his life earlier this week saving two children from a burning building….”

The figure of the priest speaks to a faceless crowd with empty eyes as Keith watches. They all don black clothes. When Keith looks down, he’s in a red hoodie and tan shorts. His breath catches. Why isn’t he wearing the appropriate clothes at his father’s funeral? Why hadn’t anyone made sure he wore the proper attire?

Keith clutches at the fabric in front of his chest as his eyes flicker between the casket, the robed priest, and the crowd. Darkness licks at the walls of the chapel, their shapes resembling the flames of a raging fire. A hand suddenly catches his shoulder in an iron grip as the priest’s wrinkled face looms in front of Keith’s.

_ “Why did you kill your father, Keith?” _Keith’s wide eyes are caught by the empty ones of the priest’s. He stumbles back, bumping into his father’s casket.

“I didn’t― I-I didn’t!”

The faceless crowd chitters.

“I didn’t kill him!”

The priest gazes at him with murky eyes sunken into a shadowed face. The background noise grows into a dull roar as Keith clutches at his head in pain.

“I told him not to go back into that building!”

The crowd arouses with a noise that deafens Keith’s ears, and the priest reaches for him with fingers charred black as death, and the lid of the casket crashes to the floor with a tremendous groan of wood, and he screams to match the noises of all around him, and the darkness yawns, and leathery hands wrap around his head, digging bony fingers into his eyes, and when he can’t scream anymore―

―there’s silence.

Opening his eyes, Keith suddenly finds himself alone in the dead chapel with his father’s casket. His gasping breaths echo around the space, and the air itself is still when he stands on shaky legs. 

Turning around to face his father’s casket, his eyes widen when he notices that the lid has fallen off. He can’t see his father’s body from where he’s standing, and part of him doesn’t want to get closer to look, but there’s something odd pulling at him- a compulsion he can’t ignore.

He steps closer to the casket, peering inside with trepidation.

It’s his father. His features are the same as he remembers, and Keith only has a moment to take them in before the skin is cracking and darkening, the stench of burning flesh assaulting his nose. His father’s eyelids fly open to reveal dark pits bubbling with blood, and his mouth opens to hiss,

** _“You and your lion are the guardians of fire. You might as well have been the one to kill me.”_ **

.

.

.

Keith jerks awake with a guttural scream tearing its way out of his throat. He braces himself on quivering arms as he heaves, the meager contents of his stomach splattering on the floor in front of him. He barely notices as the Altean apparatus falls from his head, clattering to the floor noisily. He’d broken out in cold sweat sometime during the procedure, and it covers his entire body, plastering his shirt to him.

Hands grope at him as several voices speak over each other. He gasps in panic as he shoves the hands away, fighting against their hold. Colors― black, blue, yellow, and green― blur in front of his eyes. He feels something running from his nose, tastes something metallic on his tongue, but he pays them no mind as he trips to his feet. He takes a few unsteady steps before his legs give out. Several alarmed voices call his name, but he’s caught in strong, familiar arms.

“―Keith!”

“...Takashi?” Keith asks uncertainly. He clutches onto the arms holding him, fingers digging with bruising force into unyielding armor.

“Yeah. Yeah, Keith. It’s me. I’m here.” Shiro’s voice trembles.

“T-Takashi. You’re here? Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me―”

The unshed tears finally roll down Shiro’s cheeks as he pulls Keith closer to his chest, holding onto his little brother tightly.

“I won’t. I’m here, Keith.

“I’m here.”

.

.

.

* * *

*cue "Unsteady" by X Ambassadors*

Also did anybody catch the Big Hero 6 reference?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!
> 
> PLEASE DO NOT CLAIM AS YOUR OWN WORK OR REPOST WITHOUT PROPER CREDIT GIVEN. (This applies to all online artists or writers. It's best to ask for permission first and to give credit where it's due- and absolutely do not claim others' work as your own).
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Voltron-Legendary Defender belongs to DreamWorks!


End file.
